


What's wrong with pens?

by runawaypencil



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: exchangelock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-18 22:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaypencil/pseuds/runawaypencil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“John,<em> I am a pen</em>" Sherlock said dead seriously</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's wrong with pens?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SwimmingBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwimmingBird/gifts).



> This is my ( very poor ) gift for swimmingbirdrunningrock in the "What if" Exchanglock. I'm very sorry its so short and upon looking over the prompt to get your URL, isn't very close to it. Again, so sorry. But I hope this is good enough.

Sherlock huffed heavily turning through the seemingly endless twists and turns of the abandoned building just outside metropolitan London. John was trailing behind, his short legs pumping twice as fast to meet the detective’s long stride. They reached a large open room with a set of double doors at the end of it and the pair charged through and straight into another building. Deductions and escape routes were running through his mind and it took a moment to register John yelling at him from behind. “Sherlock! Sherlock, what in the hell are we doing?” he panted and Sherlock didn’t look back as he replied “Improvising!” Though he couldn’t see behind him, Sherlock could feel the eye roll and smirked despite himself. 

He started up the stairs of what seemed to be an old apartment building left to ruins. Some walls were missing, past lives spilling and mixing together. A long hallway stretched in front of them and Sherlock called back “John, when we reach the end of the hall, you go right and I’ll go left... Try to hide the best you can”

“Sherlock, that n¬” 

“It shouldn’t be hard considering what you lack in stature...” he smirked and an audible sigh could be heard from John. The intersection came fast and Sherlock turned left, the sounds of mobsters below filling his ears. Sherlock spared a glance back at John who was sprinting down the other hallway, looking back at Sherlock. He gave a quick nod and raced down the hall, turning again and immediately pressing himself to the wall. He took in deep breathes through his mouth, closing his eyes and forcing calm into his blood stream. _John will be just fine..._ Sherlock opened his eyes and took in his surrounds with detail. The wall that had been separating two different apartments had fallen down and the ceiling was sagging in the middle, threatening to let loose its insides .He jumped over a few pieces of furniture and trash and found a rickety table leaning up against a wall. _Show time_ Sherlock felt himself fall onto the surface with a thud ... _I should work on softer landings._

Shape shifting was weird in the way you didn't feel much different than when you were a pen or a full grown man. He could see the same, maybe better and the sound of pounding feet on stairs. Minutes passed and worry was making Sherlock sick. Finally, the sound of footsteps turned down the hall that he was sitting in. A group raced by, scowering the room and flipping over a few pieces of furniture before moving onto the next collapsing room.

Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief (though he didn’t really have lungs or a mouth or a diaphragm) and stayed put, waiting for the sounds of footsteps to dissipate. He hoped against hope that John had found a decent hiding spot and stayed there. The fact the group wasn’t carrying an around a man in a jumper was a small relief and Sherlock tried to stay as optimistic as logically possible. 

Minutes passed and he was about to change back when he heard a lone pair of trudging footsteps down the hall. They turned down Sherlock’s hall and he saw John, relief flooding his form again. _Just wait till he moves on then catch up..._

Plans changed when John’s eyes settled on his exact spot and he was filled with confusion. "Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?" John scoffed, squinting his eyes at him. Sherlock froze and didn't speak as John trudged over to him. “Why are you sitting on a table?" 

Sherlock was petrified and very confused. John wasn't supposed to be able to see anything other than a normal pen sitting normally on a normal old table. 

"Sherlock, seriously, what the hell, how is that table even supporting you weigh, I-" 

“John, I'm a pen, you're not supposed to be able to see me." Sherlock tried to say, hoping this was some kind of hallucination. He wasn't even sure it'd work, he was just a pen he didn't have a mouth to utter words.

But John raised a slightly bushy brow at him " Sherlock, what are you on now?"

“Nothing, I've been clean for three days gosh" Sherlock groaned, mentally waving him of “I’m serious, I am a pen, why can’t you see it?" he puzzled 

"Wow must be some strong stuff, this is completely new..."

"What makes you not see it? I mean, everyone els-"

"Have you gone mad?" John asked seriously, rubbing his temples "Where did you ge-"

“ _John, I am a pen_ " Sherlock said dead seriously 

“Damn Sherlock, you musta got something bad, come on “John sighed, grabbing at the air above him and Sherlock immediately felt like he occupied more space. John was holding his arm and he looked quizzically down at the hand "Bu-" he started but shouts could be heard somewhere above and they both tensed. "Run?" John sighed

"I believe that would be wise"

And with that, they both took off.


End file.
